The Test
by IAmThePoisonedYouth
Summary: During an important test, Stiles has a panic attack. His boyfriend Scott is there to help him through it. Fluff and just a smidgen of angst.


"Alright everyone…" Ms. Martin's voice rung like a bell around the classroom, "Take your seats."

One of the students, Stiles Stilinski, exchanged a quick glance of fright to his boyfriend, Scott, who sat down in the seat beside him. His heart raced in his chest when he realised just how unprepared he was for this. This test would help to try and secure him a place in college, to continue his life.

The trouble was that he hadn't studied for it at all. He had been too busy fussing over werewolves and banshees and chimeras, he hadn't had the time.

"Turn over your papers… Now!" the teacher beamed at them, and Stiles could feel sweat beading on his neck as he turned it over.

Everything was suddenly too much, the silence, the words staring at him on the page, his heart racing in his chest. He didn't even hear the hollowing of his own breathing until Scott gave him a worried look.

He hadn't taken any Adderall, so was practically unable to focus, the pencil shaking in his grasp. His eyes felt sore and dry, like he wanted to cry but couldn't because if he dared, he would disrupt everyone else's learning. His vision flickered as his breath ran from him and he was finally beginning to notice himself being thrust into a full-blown panic attack.

"Is there something wrong, Mr. Stilinski?" Ms. Martin asked, setting him off.

He shook his head, tears filling his eyes, "I can't… I can't breathe!"

"Oh, my God…" Scott got out of his seat.

The teacher held up her hand at the werewolf, "No, sit down. Stiles, do you need to go to the office?"

"I-I…" he was losing the ability to talk, his vision shrinking as he felt the glares from everyone in the class, hearing a muffled giggle. Stiles burst out of his seat, running out of the classroom and stumbling his way to the locker room.

Scott signalled, "I'll go after him, take him to the office, miss."

"Okay, I'll try and get you both a resit if it's possible." she sounded faintly irritated, but allowed Scott to leave.

He had the urge to punch whatever student had laughed about Stiles' panicking, but pushed back the temptation, knowing his boyfriend needed him right now. He could hear Stiles softly sobbing in the locker room, gasping for air between each hiccup, and it shattered his heart into pieces, but this wasn't about _his_ pain.

"Stiles?" his voice was gentle as he opened the door, looking to see where his boyfriend was.

He followed the sound of wheezing and saw him curled up against a locker, head between his knees. Scott swallowed and knelt beside his boyfriend, gently touching his shoulder, trying to not startle him.

"Hey…" he gave a small smile, waiting for Stiles to look up at him, "Look, you're going to be okay. What triggered it?"

Stiles' lips were dry and he croaked out, "I'm going to fail," before releasing a hysterical sob, "I'm going to fail at- at everything and-and…"

"Hey… hey…" Scott pulled him close, cradling his head against his chest, pressing his lips to the top briefly before making him look up again, "I want you to count with me, okay, get your breathing back to normal.

Stiles nodded, "O-Okay."

Scott began to count on his fingers, "Okay, Stiles. One…"

"One."

"Two…"

"T-Two."

"Three…"

"Th-three…"

"Four."

Stiles nodded in acknowledgement, trying to control his breathing, "F-Four."

"Five…" Scott stroked Stiles' cheek quickly with his other hand, then counted his sixth finger, "Six."

"F-Five, six."

"Seven…"

"Seven."

"Eight. Come on, Stiles, you can do this."

"... Eight."

"Nine."

"N-Nine."

"And ten."

Stiles swallowed, calmed down slightly, "Ten."

"There we go, buddy, ten." Scott took Stiles' hands in his own and brushed gentle kisses over the knuckles, pulling him close.

Stiles sniffled, still crying slightly, "Oh, God, I've fucked up now. I ran out."

"Ms. Martin will get you a resit, don't worry. I'll take you to the office if you want." Scott offered, stroking his shoulder.

Stiles sighed, "You're too good to me."

"Well, you're my best friend." Scott met eyes with the other, "And so much more." he kissed his nose, then nuzzled his cheek.

Stiles laughed, "Dude, stop that, it's weird!"

"Nope, I like that laughing sound I'm hearing from you." Scott pressed his lips against Stiles' cheek, then his lips.

Stiles let his hands come up and cup Scott's cheeks as he kissed back, feeling Scott's own pull him closer.

"Mm… not in the locker room." Stiles pulled away, smirking, "You're supposed to take me to the office."

Scott groaned, "Okay, if you wish. Love you."

"Love you too, asshole." Stiles smiled.

Scott scoffed as he got to his feet, offering Stiles his hand, which he eagerly took, before being pulled up. Scott wrapped a protective arm around Stiles' waist, leading him to the nurse's office.


End file.
